Ever I Watched
by ThisCouldTheoreticallyBeSparta
Summary: Regulus wanted, so Regulus watched. one-sided Blackcest; Remus/Sirius


EVER I WATCHED

Author: Pixie-Rings

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Remus/Sirius, one-sided Regulus/Sirius.

Genre: dark, angst, Regulus's POV

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K Rowling. If I were her, I'd be rich, which is a reason not to sue me. I own nothing except the clothes on my back, the glasses on my face and the cats on my sofa.

Word count: 1221

Warnings: mentions of one-sided incest.

Summary: Regulus wanted, so Regulus watched.

A/n: I know. Squicky, but it wouldn't let me go.

**xxXxXxx**

I'm cold, detached, unfeeling as he brands the snake-entwined skull on my left forearm. I do not even need to grit my teeth. My thoughts are full of vindictiveness, revenge, anger and savage glee... And sadness.

Ever have I loved him, as long as I remember, but I don't remember when it strayed from the normal road of brotherly affection to that of a rocky, twisted, dark path of forbidden passion. Maybe it was always so. I never told him, and I never will. He'd be disgusted by it, and hate me all the more.

Because I know he hates me. He never used to, he used to love me, always there to comfort me and hold me when I'd been punished. Mother never hugged me. Nor did Father. In fact, I don't think the two people I wanted to please most ever felt affection for something other than themselves. Maybe not even then. He began to hate me when I sided with them. Torn between my love for him and my duty, my desperate need to prove myself in their eyes. To show I wouldn't fail like he had, cavorting with Mudbloods and traitors and scum.

Maybe I went the wrong way.

I saw him. I noticed it. I always watched him. I could never take my eyes off him, to be truthful. He looks like me: my eyes, my hair, and my nose... But it suits him, whereas on me it just mars with everything else. Beautiful where I am nothing but plain and unnoticeable. But I noticed. His friends didn't.

The way he looked at Lupin was the way I looked at him.

The jealousy I felt! The indescribable surge of envious hatred whenever he turned to looked at that scrawny swot was overwhelming. I could have stood and punched him, both of them, but I feared retaliation. I am a coward. I always have been.

I watched. Closely. I saw that Lupin would look at him like he did Lupin when he knew my brother wasn't watching. I hate him, I hate him with such fire I was sure I would burn. I thought myself capable of murder.

Then, suddenly, everything changed.

I watched it - them, their love - unfolding like a flower, slowly, then bursting into bloom. I saw the one-sided glances turn into long-held, melting gazes. Small smiles exchanged, a lover's slight curve of the lips. I saw his hands go under the table and hold Lupin's surreptitiously, fingers laced like a zip, tight and unbreakable.

And such jealousy was never felt by anyone before or after.

I wanted to hold his hand like that. I wanted to be the one he held the eyes of, and the one he caressed the cheek of in secret places.

I wanted him.

**xxXxXxx**

I walked in on them once.

Moaning Myrtle's bathroom is perfect for privacy. No one goes in there, not even the most desperate of girls will enter that lachrymose spectre's domain. And I heard them.

"No, Sirius, not _here_..."

"Oh, how can you expect me to resist, Remus?"

His voice, laden with innuendo. Kissing sounds, soft moans as something more went on, As I couldn't hear him, only Lupin, I suspect his mouth was otherwise involved.

And I couldn't move.

My fists clenched tight enough for my nails to draw blood on my palms. My body shaking with rage and mindless envy. My mind blank, listening to Lupin's voice as my brother gave him a pleasure I craved from him.

And I still couldn't move.

After a while they came out, Lupin flush with fresh pleasure. He had just rinsed his mouth when they saw me. His wand was out in a flash at my neck.

"Say anything and you won't speak again!" He snarled, and the flaring hatred in his eyes was painful. I hid my pain behind disgust and a long-practiced sneer. But before I could say anything, Lupin cut in.

"Leave him, Sirius." He said sternly, dragging him away. And my brother, so proud, so unyielding, let himself be moved, although his eyes never left my face, burning a hole in me. Lupin took my arm.

"Please don't tell anyone, Regulus," he begged. I was horrified. The object of my hatred, the one who stole him from me, was touching me. I couldn't throw him off soon enough. Fear, loathing, disgust, I knew were painted on my face before I could control them. And then I couldn't get away fast enough.

I was jealous, madly so. I wouldn't keep it a secret. If he didn't want me, he'd have no one at all.

I told Mother. My proof was a letter I stole when Sirius wasn't around.

I'd never seen her so angry. Angry was an understatement. She was beyond anger. Some primordial rage was boiling forth from her, and it was as unstoppable as nature herself.

She and Father tortured him. His choked cries, his tears, his body bent unnaturally in his agony. I was torn. To see the one I loved hurt so nearly killed me.

But again my cowardice stayed me.

I just thank who or whatever controls this unfair, cruel, vicious world that Uncle Alphard and Oscar arrived just in time, because I do not doubt something much worse could have happened.

From then on, he hated me even more. He would not even sneer at me when we passed in the corridors. He ignored me, the cold rage in his eyes evident to even the most foolish and unobservant. Even Lupin, who I will begrudgingly admit had always been civil to me when I deserved it not, gave me filthy looks.

My cousins who had not betrayed us congratulated me. I was the heir now, the family favourite, and I hated it. I had always been the spare, and now I was the successor. And it was awful.

All what I had strived for was merely a burden I should have left to Sirius. But he would have left anyway, I think. He couldn't stand it. His soul was made of light and air and once it had tasted the sweet savour of freedom it would not be denied it. My soul... My soul was made of mud and darkness and filth and was not worthy of even the basest of affections: I deserved no pity or mercy. I was nothing. I am nothing.

I still keep his photo under my pillow. I cry many different tears over it. If Mother knew, she would cleave me in two with the Goblin-made battleaxe in Father's study. Even Black incest has a limit. I miss him. The house is so dark and even more evil without him. It encloses me, the walls folding in to crush. Only now do I realise how much I needed his light in my life.

He was always there for me, and I repaid him with cruelty and envy and lies. He didn't deserve it.

I hate myself, I hate him, and I hate my family. And the only way I see to vent my hatred is this. By becoming what he hates most. By becoming part of and bonding with the darkness.

Maybe I may still find a way to redeem myself.

But I still love him. And I'm damned anyway.


End file.
